Haché: five years too late

Haché, 24 Inverness Street, NW1 7HJ

That things change is an irrefutable facet of existence. Sometimes frightening, usually unsettling; it is frequently-observed fact of life that almost nothing remains constant. However, there is one aspect of my life where time has done only good things: the evolution of the British burger. 

Longer-term residents of our fair isle will recall the dark days when the choice between McDonald's and Burger King was the only real decision required when dining on burgers. It is unsurprising, therefore, that the advent of Gourmet Burger Kitchen and their ilk - who made meddling with the humble burger into a multiple-outlet mega-success, was largely welcomed by a populace starved of variety. However, is anyone really sad that the intervening years have seen a growing maturity in our attitude to burgers, as we realise that something simple, made with top ingredients, is an infinitely superior choice? The folks at Haché must be, for in their world it is 2005, they are the best burger place in the city and variety still reigns supreme. Shame it's 2011, chaps.

From the outset, Haché felt a little dated. The décor is that type of chandelier-strewn living room chic that was bang on trend at the turn of the century; there is even a chatty explanation of the menu stencilled onto the wall. Perhaps because the menu itself is vast. There is a burger with an onion bhaji and one with peanut butter. There are chicken burgers and lamb burgers, all done several ways. There is even a duck burger, for the truly adventurous. We, possibly foolishly, ordered fairly conservatively: a normal cheeseburger, a reblochon burger and some fries.

The ordinary cheeseburger was the better choice: a pleasantly-textured patty smothered in cheese that had melted perfectly and comprehensively. By contrast the reblochon lacked a proper creamy texture and slightly stinky punch; and they had been stingier with the more expensive cheese so it did not have the plate-coating generosity of the standard offering. In both cases, the meat had a well-seasoned, savoury flavour and the burgers were a good size. The problem was the bread. The burgers were served in oversized ciabatta buns which dwarfed the patty, remaining dry on the outside whilst sucking up all the meaty juices like a stale-tasting sponge. Disappointed, we left remembering the (thankfully, bygone) days when the number of offerings on the menu seemed to matter more than the quality of the ingredients. For so it is at Haché, where they manage to offer a wide range of choice but have failed to master one of the fundamental components of a good burger.

I have no problem with the concept of innovation when it comes to burgers but I have yet to find a wacky burger that comes anywhere near the best examples of a classic cheeseburger. Variations on the basic theme, an unusual cheese for example, that work with and enhance the essential qualities of a good burger are fine, but throwing on random ingredients in a misguided attempt to make it somehow more "gourmet" is not. Particularly if the basic ingredients are not up to scratch in the first place. 

Hawksmoor is a case in point. The addition of kimchi to their already excellent cheeseburger is inspired. Their practice of having a new third burger every month is clever way of offering variety and innovation without trapping themselves with a monstrous menu of incongruous choices. However, even in the hands of burger masters, variety in burgers can be flawed. The latest third burger, an umami burger, was like a phenomenally well-executed mushroom sandwich in which the strong savoury, earthy flavours rendered even the best beef patty obsolete.

The best mushroom sandwich in the world

Thankfully, it is no longer 2005, and Haché is no longer the best burger restaurant in London. It is shame, however, that they seem not to have realised this. Barring the bun from hell, the cheeseburger had promise and if they could only bring their approach into the right decade, they might reclaim their former glory.